


Love Potion Sixty-Nine

by UnknownSatellite84



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Aphrodisiacs, Atlas CEO Rhys, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Public Sex, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: Rhys's attempts to annoy Jack during a meeting lead to some unintended mental consequences, public sex, and probably a murder spree.





	Love Potion Sixty-Nine

**Author's Note:**

> So MostlyAnon came up with the prompt "what if someone tried to humiliate Jack by drugging his drink during a meeting, but Rhys drank it instead," on the rhack discord and I just had to write for it. They also wrote for the idea as well (which I haven't read yet, so it'll be interesting to find out how similar mine did or didn't turn out to theirs) XD

Rhys paced the meeting room, listening to a man drone on about numbers and percentages, mind ablaze with fast-moving thoughts. Hyped up on coffee, he couldn't sit still, hadn't been able to since he walked in here. He knew he was making everyone nervous. But he didn't care. Let them fidget. 

Well, not _everyone_. 

Handsome Jack just looked _ bored _ from his seat at the head of the meeting table, chin in hand, almost… Half-dozing? A complete contrast to Rhys's inability to stop moving. It seemed backwards. Usually Jack was the one with all the energy. And it kind of pissed him off, if he were honest. He was here because of Hyperion's screw-up over a mining skirmish incident between them. Hyperion's fault. Not Atlas's. He was here for his compensation, but fucking _Handsome Jack _ turned it into a meeting about- about- potential trades and-and whatever the fuck the presenter was droning on about.

Rhys was just here for his million bucks, thank you. 

Rhys scanned the negotiations group again, detecting elevated heart rates, high stress levels, anxiety, even outright fear. There were five of them. And all of them _ sucked. _

It was sad. He could laugh at them.

Rhys glared at Jack's untouched drink, interrupting the speaker. "How the fuck does any of this make up for the mining screw up, Hyperion?" He thrusted his hands on the table next to Jack with a slam. "I don't care about your e-tech, and I don't care about your stocks. I lost an entire team, and that's twenty more people my managers have to train. Twenty people whose families need to be paid life insurance. I want your _money_, not your promises, _ thank you _." He put as much vitriolic sarcasm into the phrase as he could. 

Jack's brow raised while everyone else practically pissed themselves. 

"Whoa, _ someone _ woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning..._Rhysie_."

"I want my million, _Jackie_. Make it two million for every extra fifteen minutes you waste of my time. I shouldn't even be here at Helios. You could've wired the goddamned money this _ morning_!" 

"And miss the chance to make you get dolled up and bring that tight ass up here. Nuh uh. Besides, I ain't giving you a _cent_ without signed papers saying you got it."

"Then give me the papers already!" Rhys hated how every interaction with Hyperion was just pulling teeth. "And quit flirting!" 

"Never," Jack smirked, _all_ teeth. 

Rhys wanted to pull them out, one by one, with forceps, preferably while Jack was still conscious and not numbed out with any painkillers.

Instead, Rhys settled for less satisfactory means of revenge. He looked around, spying Jack's untouched drink. He grabbed the mug and took a deep chug of its sweet contents. As he did so, Rhys saw one of the employees squirm in their seat, face paling to the shade of paper. It was sad. They probably assumed that Jack would murder Rhys for such a slight. Rhys was _confident_ Jack wouldn't. 

A bit of liveliness crept into Jack's tired eyes, and his grin widened, amused. Not even angry. Rhys didn't know why that was disappointing. "Sit _ down _, cupcake."

"How about you _ make _ me?" Rhys was in the mood to clash. Goddammit he wanted a reason to yell. Rhys slammed the cup down. "Huh, _Hyperion_?" 

Heat flooded his cheeks, like a blush.

Weird.

Probably the coffee. He shouldn't have sprang for that extra cup. His tie felt a little tighter, and he tugged at it, loosening it. 

He saw the same person fidget again.

Jack was speaking. "That's cute, pumpkin, but if you don't sit down I could just tie you up instead. How 'bout it. Send you down to the holdin' cells for awhile until you've calmed down? Let the guards turn you into a punching bag for awhile? You want that?"

Rhys's body _ reacted _to the threats in a very unexpected way. Rhys ignored it. 

"Too worn out to do it yourself, Jack?" Rhys jibed, voice sounding odd in his own ears, higher in pitch. "You must be getting old! You know what, Jack? For all your bluster, you sure don't like… following through with your… threats." Rhys's heartbeat picked up, thudding against his ribs. Adrenaline? Sort of felt like it. "At least from- from what I've seen."

The first hint of annoyance glimmered in Jack's eyes. "You really are fired up today, sugarcup. Better cool it. I _ will _ teach ya a very _ hands-on _lesson about how long a human body can stay conscious without oxygen. And _spoilers_: it's not as long as you'd want."

Rhys's breathing felt off. His lungs stuttered. He drew a sharp breath of air like he'd forgotten how to breathe. The room was… sharpened, colors richer. The yellows bright, the grays smooth, the polished floors shining, crisp and _ wrong _ somehow. He swallowed, throat tickling. He cleared it. Rhys pictured those large hands around his neck, _ tightening_, closing off his airway.

His dick twitched.

Adrenaline didn't feel like...whatever the hell _this_ was.

Jack's chuckle made an irritated growl leave his throat. "Lookin' a little nervous there, Atlas." 

"You know what? …Suck a _ dick_, Jaaaack- Aaahh-" Rhys's voice split on a groan spilling from his mouth. _ Jack with a dick in his mouth- _ oooh godd- _would be heaven_. _ Rhys's _ dick. Yeah. Please. 

Everything felt so damned hot. He just wanted to tear his clothes off. A weird thought. 

Jack's expression showed pure surprise - which was nice. In fact, Jack looked so very _nice _ with his messy hair and mismatched shining eyes, mouth slighty open, clothes haphazard with too many layers- Yeah. Rhys itched to- to- Wanted to get his hands on that- on Jack. Anywhere. Especially down those pants-

_What. The. Fuck. _

"What the hell is going on with you?" Jack snapped in tune to his thoughts. 

"Shit, I don't-" Rhys cut himself off, felt another second from moaning again. His limbs trembled. When did the room get _so hot_? Sweat beaded on his brow and under his clothes - he just wanted them _ off, please, now- _

"Something isn't…something isn’t right…. D-did you poison me?" Rhys snarled, weak. He braced against the table. He was losing focus on his thoughts, but everything around him was still uniquely sharp. He felt the micro bumps in the table under his finger, each crease of his clothing against his damp skin, the tickle of electricity in his echo eye and implants. He shivered, swallowing hard, throat like paper. The air felt heavy. And he was drowning. Drowning in desire.

His dick pulsed, shaking reality back into his thoughts like a slap to the face. He realized a couple things. Firstly, his pants were _tight_ against an unexpected boner. Secondly, he just want to grind against something,_ anything, _but especially - _Jack_.

Jack commanded, “nobody move!”

Jack’s hand landed on Rhys's shoulder. Rhys felt the pressure through his skin right down to the bone. It shot all the way down to his rock-hard cock he was desperately concealing under the table. He leaned forward, pulling away from the touch,_ too much _. 

Jack's voice reached through the fog in his mind. "I'll get the doctors-" 

"_ Fuuck _ -nnng- no! Like I want… your…" He meant to say _ “doctors” _ . But it didn't make it out of his mouth correctly. "D-iick _ ...touching _me.”

“_What_?”

He took a minute to scan his own vitals. They were a little off, not as bad as he would’ve assumed. Some odd chemical was in his bloodstream, though. He scanned it too, checking it against a database of information. When… the results came back he learned...He was drugged? By…

Love Potion Sixty Nine?

Rhys cursed. How the hell… and _ who… _? 

Jack's stupid drink. Of course.

He'd been drugged by someone who meant to…drug Jack… _ Why _? 

It was getting harder to think. The drug, an aphrodisiac, was hitting him... Hard. He'd heard of it before, but never partook of it himself. He'd seen it at some wild, hard-core, cooperate night parties. Usually the anonymous ones. It was powerful stuff.

Those parties...

"Fuck me," Rhys gasped, a thrill running through his body, the memory of the smell of sex in his nose, so strong it felt real - a heavy techno beat in his ears, his heart thrumming it out, the rhythm more than just memory. It was _real_. "_ Please _ ." His mind a foggy field even though the room remained sharp as a razor. It was like being in a lucid dream. All he could think about was how desperately he needed to be _ touched _. By-

"_ Jack. Jaaack." _

_ "Jesus, pumpkin. _ Wow. You’re _freaky_._ " _

Rhys hissed, "your drink...was spiked…Idiot"

"Goddamn," Jack's voice carried through his thoughts again. The only person who even existed. The only person whose touch mattered. Rhys needed him like he needed air and water. "Whoever did this is gonna get my pistol jammed in their-" 

"Jack- I’m fucking...so _ hard- _I just need… Fuck. Just fuck me!”

"Are you sure-?" 

"Yes! Now-unnnngh. _ Nowww _."

Jack touched him. It was like fire to his heated skin under the soft fabric of his shirt, and yet, he craved it. He pressed into Jack. It_ hurt _that they weren't closer. Hurt his dick especially. He keened.

"Let's just-" Jack started.

"Fuck. Me. _Now_!" 

"Well how can the hero deny the pretty CEO of Atlas what he needs?” Jack’s tone was flirty, but it quickly shifted, directed across the room instead of at Rhys. “Congrats, _ shitheads _, you earned yourselves a free live Handsome Jack sex show this morning. Better hope that’s what you were going for, because no one's allowed to leave until I say so." 

Jack shoved Rhys against the table. Rhys cried out, the impact and pressure pure pleasure to his misfiring brain. “Wow, you sound good yelling,” Jack purred. Rhys pressed back against Jack without a care in the world, begging mindlessly. When Jack's hands went to his belt, he tried to rut into them, failing. Jack said something, but Rhys didn't hear it, thoughtless. Jack obliged him, pausing the work on Rhys’s belt to palm against the straining tent in Rhys’s pants, humming.

Rhys whimpered. “Fucking- _yess_.”

"As cute as that is… No sense in you having _ all _the fun alone, cupcake.” 

Rhys's eyes were drawn to Jack's hand gripping the tainted mug and taking a sip. Rhys might've been shocked if his thoughts were in logical order. They weren't. He whined incoherently, drool spilling out of his mouth. “Gross,” Jack commented by his ear, “but _ hot _ .” Jack pressed over Rhys, chest to his back, hips to his ass, and _ bit _his neck, sucking, leaving it wet and warm. Rhys’s eyes rolled into his head. Jack’s hands yanked open his tie, slipping it over Rhys's head and ripping open Rhys's work shirt in a few seconds. He let out a pornographic moan as Jack's fingers raked his bared skin, down his chest. Felt like heaven. 

"God, Rhysie, I've been wanting to get my hands on you, baby. Just like this. _ Fuck _ . I wanted you… For so long. Been hoping… I Didn't think it'd be like this. Wow that stuff is strong, and I barely even.... Fuck, your skin is so goddamned _ soft _, and you smell so friggin’ good, like a garden..." 

Rhys babbled a breathless _“yes,” _ thrusting his ass back hard into the bulge in Jack's jeans. "Fuck me!" 

"Don't have to ask twice," Jack growled. “Or however many times now, you bossy little slut.”

Rhys was still boiling in his own skin, so when Jack ripped his shirt all the way open and yanked it down his arms to expose his overheated flesh to the cool air, he gasped in relief. 

Jack’s hands left for a moment. His gun fired. Rhys jumped, his skull ringing inside and out. People screamed. 

Jack snapped across the room. "Nobody friggin’ _ move- _How hard is that to understand?!”

Rhys didn't get what was happening, but he also didn't care. He ground himself as hard as he could against Jack's erection. Hearing the king of Hyperion moan shamelessly loud in his ears was like another dose of that aphrodisiac. For some reason he thought he smelled blood, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the pleasure he could gain from the dick pressed against him. He said the man's name again, reaching back to claw a covered chest. Jack cursed and rutted against him, tearing Rhys's pants open, shoving them down his hips. 

Jack pulled away, his warmth leaving Rhys. 

"No!” Rhys yelled, scrambling to follow. He might die if he didn’t. Jack grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, holding him in place, Jack's hips too far away from Rhys’s ass to continue grinding against. “Don't you _ dare _stop, you jackass-" 

"Jeezus, babe, just getting my dick out. Just hang on, wouldja?"

Rhys wanted to yell again. He pounded his fist against the table instead. Hazy confusion flooded him, and he reached down to palm himself, desperate. He needed to get off. Jack grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back, tying them. Was that his tie? Rhys groaned. "Fuck, damn you-" 

Jack's gloriously naked dick pressed against his bare thigh, taut and leaking, smearing precum. Rhys shifted towards it. "Fuck me already." 

"Workin' on it, dumbass!" Jack slammed Rhys chest-down against the table, knocking the air from him with a hefty gasp. He shoved Rhys’s legs together, which was _ opposite _of what Rhys anticipated, both large hands holding them tightly. Rhys squirmed until Jack slid his slick cockhead down Rhys’s ass, dipping it into the tight warmth between his thighs. It felt hot and thick.

For a moment, Rhys wondered if he might pass out. It was glorious.

Jack’s cock dragged roughly against Rhys’s skin for a moment, but it slipped back with ease as more precum lubricated it, mixing with Rhys's perspiration. Jack shifted position until satisfied and began thrusting in earnest, his full length sliding along Rhys’s perineum and balls each time, making Rhys cry out again and again until his throat gave out to hoarse gasps. Jack bit and sucked on his neck and shoulders, marking him, _ claiming _him. 

Rhys shook, toes curling in his rakk-leather boots. He pulled on his bound arms pinned between them, wished he could pull Jack impossibly closer somehow until they became one - one mess of sweat and cum and pleasure. 

Rhys screamed in orgasm, cybernetic hand tearing some of the stitching in his tie. He bucked against Jack, thighs tightening around the cock between them. Jack gave a noise between a howl and a snarl, cumming immediately, painting Rhys's legs and balls with warm semen. 

Rhys finished, gasped, and slumped against the table, Jack landing on top of him. Jack panted heavily against his ear, and they sat there for a moment. Rhys was too spent to care that he could barely breathe with Jack's heavy weight on him. Some of the cloudiness was lifting from his mind, reality falling in. Rhys opened his eyes he hadn’t realized were shut, lifting them...to see-

The _others. _Their eyes were adverted, deep flushes painting their dumb faces. Rhys was suddenly very aware of a thick line of saliva down his chin. 

Mortification crashed over him. Fuck. No. Way. He was not just _ watched _ . Not just seen getting fucked by Hyperion’s CEO- fucking Handsome Jack. They were looking away, but they _ knew- _

Rhys shifted, and Jack backed off an inch letting him. With a nasty tearing sound, Rhys ripped his hand free of the binds with the help of his cybernetics, grabbed Jack's gun from the table, and fired four more shots. Precise. Clean. Ending their screams almost as soon as they began. 

"_ Holy shit _," Jack breathed against his neck. “Babe…”

The group was dead, blood dripping down their heads from bullet wounds. 

Jack was still talking. "You're the sexiest friggin CEO- after- after me of course." 

"They couldn't know," Rhys said. He shoved Jack off of him. He scavenged his ruined clothes as best he could, pulling up his pants despite the sticky cum on his legs, yanking his now button-less shirt back in place, tossing his broken tie aside. He dragged his suit jacket from his abandoned chair, using it to cover his wasted shirt. His hand smoothed back his hair in one fluid motion.

Oddly, he still felt kind of horny, but the haze was gone. He needed time to think… 

"Rhysie. Baby boy-"

"_What_?" He looked at Jack, who was also getting his pants back in place. 

"So… Wanna do that again sometime or-?" 

"Do _what _again? Get drugged and then fucked in front of your employees? _ No _."

"I meant you, me, fewer clothes, hardened dicks..." 

"No. Maybe." Rhys scrubbed at the lingering flush he could feel in his cheeks, trying to get it to go away. "What are you suggesting." It wasn’t a question really. He understood. He just wanted Jack to admit it out loud exactly what he was imagining for them.

Jack’s eyes burned. "I dunno for sure, baby, but I don't think the effects have worn off completely so we could continue this… Negotiation in my office."

“Stop calling me baby, we’re not dating.” Jack raised a brow, and Rhys raised one back. "...Was that true? What you said? About wanting it for awhile now?" 

"Yeeup. Since the day I laid eyes on ya, you sexy little shit. Wanted to bend you over just like that and mess you up. I should've thanked that idiot before I shot him. If I'd known that was what it took to get you to throw yourself at me-" 

"Shut. Up." Before Jack could argue, Rhys nodded. "And let's go finish negotiations in your _ office. _Don’t expect it to make up for any of the damages, though. I still want my money." 

“‘Course. Consider it a bonus from your good pal Jack.” Jack grabbed the spiked drink and then smacked Rhys’s ass with his free hand. Rhys glared. Jack grinned.. "Wow I gotta get me some of this stuff to keep around, it's really damn good. Better than Engo- uh, I mean, _ nothing _ . Better than nothing at all, ‘cause, _ wow _."

“Oh my god, you old man,” Rhys sighed, rolling his eyes. He laughed. "Way to burn yourself there."

“Shut it, princess, and start walking.” 


End file.
